


Love In an Elevator

by undersail2013



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ice Play, Kinda, M/M, Oral Sex, Sharing a drink, Trapped In Elevator, no orgasms just playtime, sam hunts alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2243061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersail2013/pseuds/undersail2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, and Cas are minutes from dropping a mystery monster who likes to sow discord.  If only they can decide whether to take the stairs or the elevator.  </p>
<p>Spoilers, Dean and Cas take the elevator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In an Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the prompt by [fairtradehoney](http://fairtradehoney.tumblr.com/)... The fic has nothing to do with the song; there's a lot more actual love in this elevator!

“I’m just saying that if we’re gonna head it off, Sammy, it doesn’t make sense for all of us to take the stairs.” The elevator dinged, and Dean held the door with his drink hand.

Sam threw Dean a dirty look. “Fine, your lazy ass can take the elevator. Cas, you’re with me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Dean stalled.

“What?”

“Well.”

“Dean?” Cas asked.

“Nothing. Just.” He closed his eyes and blurted it out: “Cas is still too dehydrated to climb that many stairs and still fight.”

Cas glared at Dean; Sam looked incredulous. “Speak for yourself, Dean! He’s fine!”

“I’m fine,” Cas repeated. “If anyone shouldn’t climb stairs, it’s Sam.”

“Stay out of this,” Sam snapped, insulted.

“Look, guys, stop!” Dean barked, stepping out of the doorway. He held his hands out, looked from one to the other. “Everybody chill out, okay? Look, we’re playing right into its little game.”

They shook their heads clear. 

“I’m sorry, Dean, Cas, I just-” Sam blew out a breath. “You guys take the elevator, and I’ll meet you up there. I’ll get there before you anyway, so take this soda from me and give me the bag.”

“Sure about that? We can take it, and you can save your strength.”

“No, I’ll take it.” Sam snatched at the duffel, and Dean accepted the cup like he was signing his brother’s death warrant. “It’ll all be over before the doors even open. It’s fine. Go.”

Cas started to say something, but Sam was already halfway across the lobby, long locks blowing behind him. “I guess I’ll go with Dean, then.”

The elevator doors slid smoothly open when Dean jabbed the UP button. “Shall we? Here take these.” Cas took all three drinks and settled cross-legged against the back wall as they started their ascent. He sipped at his Big Gulp. 

“Hey, don’t drink all of that,” Dean scolded, his back to Cas as he jimmied the card reader to unlock the penthouse. “If Sam’s wrong, ow,” he grunted as a small shock arced against his finger, “If he can’t take the sonofabitch down by himself, we’re gonna need the carbonation to defend ourselves against the- SHIT!” 

The carriage went dark.

“Dean?”

He groaned, but he didn’t respond.

“Dean, are you hurt, what can I-?” Just then, the emergency lights kicked in, and he could see Dean crumpled on the ground, clutching at his arm. He raced across the floor and hovered over him, anxious to help.

“Sonofabitch. I’m fine, I just tripped something. Shorted it out. Fuck.” He knocked his head backward against the wall. 

“So. We’re trapped.”

“Yeah, looks like.”

Cas sighed. He checked his phone. “We have signal. Sam will call when he’s done.”

“Or he won’t.”

“He will,” Cas assured him. “This isn’t his first rodeo.”

Dean smiled at the choice of phrase. “Yeah well, I should be out there, helping him, not stuck on the-” he squinted upwards, “-three and a halfth floor.”

Cas let him wallow for a moment before remarking, “It’s very warm.”

“It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.” He shrugged out of his suit jacket, just bumping Cas’ chest with his elbow in the process. “Sorry, Cas. Scootch it back a bit.” He tossed the jacket across the carriage and went to work on rolling up his sleeves.

Cas followed suit. So to speak. “We don’t have any water,” he added as he loosened his tie and unfastened his topmost buttons. 

Dean suddenly felt very thirsty.

“I don’t want to pass out again. That was unpleasant. At least we have liquids, though.”

“Right,” Dean croaked. He clambered past Cas towards the beverages sitting in the corner. Sam’s Sprite had tilted against the wall and threatened to spill, but the other two had survived the jolt. Dean grabbed the nearest one and took a swallow. He grimaced. “Ugh, this is yours.”

“You don’t like root beer?”

“It’s not what I expected.” He swapped it out for the other cup and drank deeply. “Ahh. Much better.”

Cas made his way to Dean. “What did you get?”

“Diet.”

Cas frowned. “Diet?”

“Don’t judge.”

“I’m not judging.”

“It’s not a diet thing,” he rushed to add. 

“I never said it-”

“It tastes like liquid Jesus.”

Cas now looked singularly disgusted. “That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re so literal.”

“Yes.”

“Here, just try it and tell me you don’t like it.”

“I have tried it. As I told Jo at the time, the chemical composition is identical to that of petro-”

“Stop. I don’t wanna know.” He wiped off the straw with his fingers and passed Cas the cup. “Try it again. With human tastebuds.”

Cas stared at Dean for a long minute, bringing the straw to his lips and sucking delicately. His eyes widened. 

Dean allowed himself to breathe and he smiled at the joy on his partner’s face. “Right?”

“It’s sweet. Sweeter than the root beer.”

“Told you.”

“It’s fizzier, too.”

“Yeah?” Dean moved closer to take the cup out of his hands, but Cas wouldn’t relinquish it. “You like it?” 

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, his lips wrapped around the straw again. 

Dean tugged at his tie. “’S warm in here.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Jesus, Cas,” he breathed. He batted the hand with the drink out of his way and pushed into Cas’ space, crawling into his lap. “You’re such a tease.” 

“I know,” he murmured back before pressing his mouth against Dean’s. “You love it.” 

“Mm-hmm.” He grabbed a handful of hair, squeezing a groan out of Cas. He held him tight between his thighs and tight against his chest and kissed him for all he was worth. 

Cas tugged Dean’s shirt out of his pants and slithered his hands under the fabric to claw at the hot skin of his back. 

Gasping, Dean broke the kiss. “Shirt off.” He fumbled with the buttons for a minute, trying to keep Cas’ hands on his back, his mouth on Cas’ neck, and also getting the goddamn shirts off. Finally, he knocked Cas backwards and straddled him so he could focus. But Cas wasn’t making it easy on him, rolling his hips up against his ass so Dean could feel every hard inch of him. “Fuck.”

“I’m trying.”

“You watch too much porn.”

“I’ve seen your browser history.”

Dean took his time unbuttoning Cas, watching him wriggle as his hands oops-accidentally found his nipples. “How’s that?” The only answer he got was thumbs brushing too gently over his own hard nubs. “Harder, babe,” he pleaded through gritted teeth. “Pinch me. You’re too-” When he shifted his gaze and saw Cas’ cocked eyebrow, though, he shook his head and laughed. “Oh, you fucker, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

He leaned down to kiss the smirk off Cas' face. He cupped the back of his head to pull him closer. But he pulled back at once, frowning. “Cas, you're sweating.”

“It's hot. I'm hot.”

Dean disengaged. “No, babe, like, really sweating. Here, take a drink.” As he moved the cup, though, it sloshed. “Wait.” He pulled the top off and threw it aside. “We do have water.”

Cas looked confused for a moment before remembering: “Ice.”

Dean fished out an ice cube and fed it to Cas. “How's that?”

“Unh.” He swirled it around his mouth until it melted. “More,” he moaned. Exaggerated for Dean's benefit, of course.

Dean smiled. He found two ice cubes this time, and while Cas sucked at one, Dean slid the other across his forehead, down one cheek and up the other. “Close your eyes.” He dragged the ice across each eyebrow, gently painted each eyelid. “How's that?”

“More.” He wasn't exaggerating this time.

While Dean's hands were occupied obtaining more ice, Cas reached for his belt, his fly. Reached into his shorts and pulled out his object. He tugged, just enough to encourage Dean to bring his hips closer.

“Sure you don't want me to take my pants off?”

Cas shook his head, then held his mouth open like a baby bird waiting to be fed.

Dean laughed. “Hold on a sec, I got something else for you.” He laughed again at Cas' sad whimper. He took the straw in his mouth and pulled up the last of the Diet Coke, just as Cas began to protest. But Dean didn't drink it. Not all of it. He cradled Cas' head with both hands, forcing him to sit up a bit, and passed him a mouthful of soda. “Swallow, babe,” he whispered.

Cas obeyed.

“How's that?”

Cas stared up at him. Considering. Dean started to worry when he saw the head tilt to the left, but in a good way.

He wasn't wrong.

“I have an idea.”

Dean's throat was so dry. The words rattled: “Do it.”

Without taking his eyes off Dean's, Cas shifted until he had Dean right where he wanted him. Dean shivered as Cas blindly grabbed a fistful of ice and crammed it into his mouth. Then he slurped in Dean's cock.

“Jesus, fuck, Cas. 'S cold,” he whined.

Cas just hummed. Dean writhed over him, burying his sticky wet fingers into Cas’ already mussed hair. As the ice melted in his hot mouth, Cas swallowed around Dean and took another inch.

When Dean could concentrate long enough to retaliate, he fetched two more ice cubes. Barely cubes anymore. Misshapen flat stones, tacky and syrupy and dripping wet. Dean stretched back and stroked the ice across Cas’ hard nipples. Cas groaned, but didn't let go. “Yeah? You like that?” Cas nodded as best he could with a dick in his mouth; Dean lapped at him with the cold wet tongues of ice.

He could feel the heat returning to Cas' mouth, could feel the wickedly long tongue hot against his head. He didn't think twice when, panting, Cas pulled off and dove for the ice again. “More, Cas.”

“More?”

“Need more, baby. Need you.” His ice had long since melted; he was now just mindlessly tweaking Cas' nipple with one hand and steadying himself against the floor with the other, trying not to fuck Cas' face. Too hard.

“Okay, Dean. Let me give it to you.”

“Yes, Jesus, Cas, yes,” he whined.

Then things stopped going as planned.

He yelped as the ice in Cas’ hand froze his undercarriage. Then he shouted. “Fuck, that's cold!” He caught the shit-eating twist of Cas' red, wet lips as he watched- watched!- all of Dean's favorite parts shrink. “Oh fuck you so hard, you sonofabitch,” Dean grumbled, his eyes bright. 

Cas just grinned harder, and that glint in his eye turned evil. He dug his fingers into Dean's hips and flipped him onto his back. 

It took Dean a moment to catch his breath, what with the body blow and the heavy ex-angel astride his waist, and when he turned his eyes from the ceiling, he found Cas’ and sighed. 

He watched in silence as Cas poured the last of the Diet Coke ice into his palm and let the meltwater drain away, falling drip by drip onto Dean’s torso. As he watched, his hands crept upwards, a hand heavy on his thigh, a thumb softly stroking his hipbone. Touching the hard muscles of his arms and his abs and his back. He cupped his fuzzy chin and rubbed his thumb across the cleft. “I fucking love you.”

Cas smiled, bent down, pressed a dry kiss to his lips. He kissed his chin next. Kissed a trail along his scruff on his jaw. Nuzzled against the warmth of his pulse and sucked a small mark there before bringing his lips to Dean’s ear. He nipped at his earlobe and soothed it with a light kiss. “I love you, too, Dean,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I got us trapped in the elevator, babe.” 

“Not that sorry.” He was right.

Meanwhile, the ice in his curled fist melted, dripped through his fingers, and ran in thin rivulets along the valleys and plateaus of Dean’s chest. Most of them pooled at his collarbone before cascading down his neck. Cas slurped up a few of these, licked the gullies clean of sugar, only to leave wet kisses everywhere. Especially over the intrepid little droplet that found its way, glacially slow and just as cold, to Dean’s left nipple. Dean squirmed under the attention, so Cas can be forgiven for ignoring the stream that ran down the line of Dean’s ribs, still marked inside with sigils and warnings and a big fat “property of Castiel” notice that got added somewhere along the line, once upon a time. This little river went unobserved until it soaked through Cas’ trousers and caused him to gasp at the sudden sensation.

Dean chuckled at the wet spot on his pants before realizing that his own were pretty damp, too. He had just enough time to wonder, “What’s Sammy gonna think when he sees us,” then just enough time to realize with alarm that he hadn’t heard from his brother, before his phone rang and his hand closed over it with cautious relief. “Sammy?”

“Dean! Thank God, I’ve been trying to reach you!” Dean and Cas both glanced at their screens and the wavering bars struggling to maintain a connection. 

“What’s going on up there? Were you able to gank the motherfucker?”

“Please, it was dead the minute I left the stairwell. Hey Cas? Am I on speakerphone?”

“Yes, I’m here, Sam.”

“Cas, you were right, man. I lobbed that flash grenade at it, and it never had a chance. It took the whole bottle of seltzer water to take it down, and eight boxes of baking soda to neutralize the mess, but it’s dead. And salted and burnt for good measure.” Sam paused like he was looking for something. “Hey wait a minute, you’re not at the car. Where the hell are you guys?”

“Oh uh, we’re, uh, we’re trapped,” Dean replied, casually, so Sam wouldn’t worry too bad. “In the elevator. Between the third and fourth floors. We’re fine, just uhh, slight mishap with the card reader.”

“Dammit, Dean, I said to take the stairs! Okay, I’m on my way back into the building now. Just stay calm. You must be broiling!”

Dean smiled at Cas and his wild tufts of sticky soda hair. His own must be pretty impressive, too. He laid a silencing finger against Castiel’s pretty pink lips and grinned as he sucked it between his teeth. “Nah, we’re cool. Lucky we had ice-cold drinks!”


End file.
